


Mandy Saves Christmas

by ZoePlacid



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5x12, 5x12 fix it, Abusive Relationships, Drinking, Gen, Mickey and Mandy deserved a better ending, oh and no christmas appears in this fic, post 5x12, sibling relationships, this is hastily written but it helped me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 16:55:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3699977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoePlacid/pseuds/ZoePlacid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mandy learns what has happened to the Milkovich household while she's been away and she takes some decisive action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mandy Saves Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> So after just announcing that I wouldn't write any more Mickey fanfiction, here's a Mickey and Mandy fic! Anyway this takes place after 5x12. It's my way of coping with the finale.

She called Iggy the day after Thanksgiving. It was weird because she had hated that holiday ever since her mom died (her father’s friends usually came over and got drunk and watched football. By the end of the day she had to avoid them and their fucking grabby hands) but this year she missed her family. She missed her house. She’d made a turkey dinner for herself, Kenyatta, and a few of K’s friends from work--and it had actually been okay. The food hadn’t tasted too bad. No one hit her. One guy even complemented her on the sweet potatoes. But still she’d missed something. Some echo of home.

First, she tried to call Mickey but he never answered his phone anymore. He never even responded to the few texts she’d sent him. So she called Iggy who picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?” he sounded high.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“Oh. Hey, Mands.”

There was a long pause. Eventually she said, “So…how are you? How was Thanksgiving?”

“Thanksgiving?”

“You know--yesterday? Thanksgiving?” Jesus fucking Christ. Sometimes Iggy was too dumb to live.

“Oh. Yesterday? It was okay. I went over to this girl’s house--Amber?”

“Okay.”

“So, yeah, I went over there and we played Mario Kart for like five hours. Ate some Paul Newman’s pizza and then her brother came over and we--“

“Iggy--“

“Yeah?”

“So our family didn’t do anything for Thanksgiving? Where’s Svetlana? Or Ian? I thought they’d be making a big deal out of it.”

“Oh, they’re all gone.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Svet took Yevgeny and left a while ago because Ian fucking lost it. And then Ian ran away and dumped Mickey.”

“What? When?”

“Don’t know. Like, a week ago? Two weeks?”

“How’s Mickey?”

“He’s basically like passed out or drunk off his ass most of the time. He doesn’t really leave his room much.”

“Well, is he okay?” Stupid question. Of course he wasn’t okay.

“Eh, I think he just has to drink it off. He’ll get better. He always does. You know Mick--he’s a tough bastard.”

She wasn’t sure about this. Yeah, Mickey always did come through but she’d never seen him love someone like he had loved Ian. She wished she could talk to him. 

She shot the shit with Iggy for a while longer and then hung up. There was nothing she could do about Mickey from Indiana anyway. Best to forget about him.

 

*****

Two days later Mandy texted Mickey. Kenyatta had just punched her in the face and she was nursing a black eye with an ice pack. She wanted to know if her brother was okay. And she wanted to be reminded that someone existed out there who loved her. She tried calling him first but of course he didn’t pick up. So she texted him

_what’s up douchebag?_

She was surprised when her phone pinged back with a response 30 seconds later.

His text asked, _hows fucking Indiana?_

_Shitty. How are you?_

_is that asshole treating u ok? If not I’ll impound his fucking face in_

_Kenyatta’s fine but I heard Ian left. Sorry._

_Why are you there anyway? Stupid fucking Indiana_

_Mick. If I call you now, will you answer the goddamn phone?_

She didn’t receive a response. She texted him back a few more times and there was just…nothing.

*****

The next day Kenyatta came home drunk off his ass. So drunk that he passed out in their bed. Mandy sat in the living room on the only piece of furniture they possessed--a second hand sofa with coffee stains--and stared at the yellowing wall. Kenyatta was snoring. She didn’t know anyone in this entire state but him. Her life was staying in the apartment all day and waiting for this man to come home. Sometimes he was fun. Sometimes he hit her and called her worthless. She had no job. She had no money. She had nothing. She had left the South Side because she felt lost. Her life had drifted away from her. All she did was watch Lip move on. Watch Mickey and Ian build a life together. She had wanted that--a life with someone. She had even less now than when she climbed into Kenyatta's rented u-haul. How was that possible? But at the same time Mickey was reeling and it sounded like the house was in shambles. Maybe they needed her. Maybe she could help.

If she was going to be around drunk pricks all day long, she decided that she’d rather the drunk pricks be her family. And at least her brothers never hit her.

She left the couch and packed a backpack. Kenyatta never stirred. She threw in some clothes. A romance novel she’d found at the thrift store and read over and over again to cheer herself up. And $60 from Kenyatta’s stash. If she took more she thought he’d come after her for it and all she wanted was bus fare home.

And so she left.

*****

When she opened the door to her house the next morning she stopped dead. The place was strewn with all kinds of suitcases and weird little bottles of cologne and shampoo. Iggy was lying on the couch watching cartoons.

“What the hell is all this crap?” she asked instead of saying hello.

Iggy wasn’t surprised to see her, “It’s from some suitcase scam Mick and Ian were running.”

“Christ. Where’s Mickey?”

Iggy pointed to Mickey’s door, “Bedroom.”

She knocked and then entered without waiting for a response. Mickey was lying face down on his bed, naked except for one black sock on his right foot.

“Hey, asshole, I’m back,” she said with no ceremony.

“Hey, Mands,” he mumbled into the mattress. He sounded really out of it.

“You look pathetic. And when was the last time you showered? I can smell you from here.”

“Shut up, okay?” he said without any fire. His words were slurred and slow. She sighed loudly and left. She put her bag down in her room. It was so good to see her room again. She never thought she’d love this place but being gone from it and now knowing that Terry wasn’t here--well, the room felt like hers. Her space. Filled with her things. She had cried herself to sleep in this bed. And she’d danced around the room with Yevgeny to The Clash. She and Ian had fallen asleep in that bed together more times than she could count. Even after he moved in and was with Mick, sometime they’d stay up till 4 AM talking or watching _28 Dresses_ and _Bridesmaids_. This room was her home. 

She showered the bus grime off herself and got dressed again. She thought about trying to see Ian but she didn’t know what to say to him. It seemed like things had gotten pretty bad and truthfully, the whole situation with him scared her. He had been acting so weird before she’d left. And if he had dumped Mickey she worried that maybe he’d reject her, too. Who knows if he’d want to be her friend anymore. So instead, she walked to the Balls’ house where Iggy had told her Svetlana and Yevgeny were staying. She knocked. 

Veronica answered wearing a tight yellow dress and looking beautiful as usual, “Mandy! What the hell are you doing here? And what the hell happened to your face?”

“Ran into a broom handle. Is Svetlana here?”

“Yeah. That crazy bitch is making meat pies or something.” Veronica turned away from the door and screamed, “Svetlana! Visitor!”

“Who is it?”

“Mandy Milkovich.”

Veronica moved away and Svetlana took her place in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to ask you to come back home. With Yevgeny.”

“No. Too dangerous.”

“I know you had some problems with Ian but he’s gone now. He left.”

“So? He’ll be back to make more trouble. No. We stay here. It’s safe.”

“He’s not coming back. He left Mickey. You should come home.”

Mandy heard Veronica mutter loudly from somewhere inside the house, “Yeah, you _should_.”

Svetlana shook her head. She seemed to consider something. She asked, “Orange boy left?”

Mandy nodded.

“And your brother is mess, no?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s not good father.”

“So? He’ll get better.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t remember when Yev was first born? How Mickey couldn't even look at him? And how by the time I left Mickey would pick him up and talk to him sometimes? C’mon. He got better. He’ll _get_ better.”

“He’s drunk in training. He’s very messy person.”

Mandy shrugged. 

Svetlana pursed her lips and finally conceded, “All right. We come home. Only for _trial_. If things get bad again--we go.”

“Okay. Do you need help packing?”

*****

Mandy and Svetlana returned to the Milkovich house loaded with bags of baby things and the baby himself. Mickey was sitting on the couch and nursing a beer when they burst in. He stared dumbfounded as Svetlana waltzed past him announcing, “We are back. But no horseshit this time, okay?”

Mandy was carrying Yevgeny and she sat down with him in a chair across from Mickey and held him in her lap. He was clinging to her chest. Svetlana took her bags to her room and then came back, glaring at all of them. She asked Mandy, “Can you watch baby? I need nap.”

“Sure.”

Svetlana nodded and left. Mickey kept staring at Mandy and Yevgeny. The silence became so unnerving that eventually Mandy demanded, “Are you a fucking mute? What’s with you?”

“What the fuck are you doing here? When did you get back?”

She laughed, “This morning, moron. We fucking spoke! You’re really losing it.”

He sighed and ran his hand across his face. She hadn’t seen him look this bad in a long, long time. Not since their father had been around and sometimes beat Mickey so hard he could barely leave the house. He had a glassy kind of despair in his eyes. His hair was greasy. His skin looked off-color and sallow. And he just seemed so tired. She knew that kind of tired--she’d felt it in Indiana. She didn’t know why she didn’t feel it now. Maybe because she’d found the strength to leave. Maybe because she’d brought her nephew back. He was so fucking cute. She’d missed him so much.

“So how’d you get the she-devil to come back with the kid?” Mickey asked.

“I told her that Ian left. I said you’d get your shit together and be a good father.”

He laughed at that, “Making some promises you can’t keep, huh?”

“No. You will. You always do.”

He bit his lip and glanced away for a moment. Then he turned back to her and Yevgeny and asked, “Can I hold him?”

She eyed him. He didn’t seem _too_ drunk and she was here to keep an eye on them. She brought Yevgeny over and placed him in Mickey’s lap. He put his arms around the baby and nuzzled his head for a moment. He said softly, “Hey, Yev.”

Mandy sat back down across from them. Yevgeny was smiling at Mickey and trying to pull his hair. 

“Ow! Christ, you’ve got a grip you fucker,” Mickey said affectionately. Mandy went to the kitchen and made a few peanut butter sandwiches. She took Mickey’s beer away and replaced it a glass of water and a sandwich. He set Yevy down on the floor with one of his toys (it was a weird puffy-barn that made a bunch of animal noises) and ate some of the sandwich. 

They watched Yev play. It always amazed her how fascinating this little kid could be--it was so fun to see him just existing and figuring the world out. Mickey said almost the exact same thing she was thinking. He said, “It’s weird how I can stare at him for an hour. He’s just fucking playing with a toy barn.”

“I know. He is pretty cute, though. Like I see other babies at the store and they’re nowhere near as cute as him.”

Mickey agreed, “Yeah. Some other babies are ugly as fuck.”

They went back to watching Yevgeny and after a while Mickey said to her, “Thanks. You know, for getting him back.”

“Sure.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, but then he burst out suddenly, “Ian left, Mands. He left. I loved him so much and he didn’t fucking care.” His voice broke and he looked like he might cry. She didn’t know what to say to comfort him. She never knew. She tried her best, “That sucks, Mick.”

He snorted, “Yeah. Yeah, it sucks all right.”

“You gonna be okay?”

Mickey looked down at Yevgeny and then across to Mandy. He nodded, “I’ll be okay. How ‘bout you? That fucker gave you another shiner, huh?”

“Yeah, he did. But I say we forget about those two assholes. How about we go out and get some first rate dick? Tonight or tomorrow? Forget about our troubles.”

“Christ. I’m not cruising for guys with my fucking sister.”

“Hey, I’m a good wingwoman--you’re missing out.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, finished the last bite of his peanut butter sandwich, and leaned down to pick up Yevgeny who had been drooping a little.

“Time for your nap, buddy,” he said. And they went off to Svetlana’s room where Mickey would put Yev down into his crib to sleep. They would all be okay. They might not ever be great but they would be okay. Mandy was sick of being miserable. She was sick of pain. It was time to leave pain behind. It was time to take Yevgeny to the park and to bundle him up in a cute snow suit and to build snow men. It was time to listen to music and pop popcorn and to binge-watch some stupid TV show. It was time to bicker with Svetlana and Mickey and to make fun of Iggy and Colin. 

Thanksgiving had been so lonely this year in Indiana. Mandy was going to make sure that Christmas was fucking special. It was Yevgeny’s first one and it would have sugar cookies and a fucking tree with ornaments. The Milkoviches hadn’t had a good Christmas in…well, ever. But they would this year. Mandy felt like she had finally found her mission in life. She was going to be happy.


End file.
